When in Rome
by Truthful nomad
Summary: Hannah is the daughter of a wealthy Roman senator and Castiel is a gladiator slave. They are from different classes but their worlds are about to collide when Hannah is captured and begins to learn quickly how dangerous life outside her palace can be.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning**: This is going to be a very dark themed fic involving slavery, torture, forced prostitution, various types of abuse, and lots of violence, so please beware!

**Note**: This is the beginning of another series, this time it's a series of period drama AUs involving the Supernatural characters.

**Pairings**: Castiel/Hannah, Sam/Eileen, Crowley/Meg, Dean/Jo

"Hannah!" Hannah groaned inwardly as she sat at her window, gazing out at the street below. Her sister's voice was growing louder as her footsteps pounded through the hall. Her early morning peace would soon be coming to an end. She gazed down into the streets on this sunny spring morning, the beam of the sun illuminating the sun below as the plebians went about their day.

Hannah sympathized with them. Many lived in crowded conditions in their tiny apartments residing in poverty and just trying to make ends meet. They were filthy, disease-ridden, and often pawns in the games of wealthy senators. But even though their lives were hard, Hannah envied them. Here she was, the daughter of one of those senators, living in relative luxury, sitting in the window of her room, which overlooked their lives, wishing she could be them.

She often wondered if they resented her. She had no doubt they did. But if only they knew. Being the second daughter and the less favored of her father, Raphael, she felt as though she was trapped between worlds. She knew her father disapproved of her sympathy for the plebians; he was always quick to discourage her from associating with them. He had an image to maintain, and she simply didn't fit in.

Without warning, Naomi burst into Hannah's room, no doubt expecting her younger sister to be sleeping in, and scowling when she found her up and about. "Hannah," she demanded coming into the small room, her thick white linen stola brushed the floor as she twirled the material of her purple cloak which draped across her chest.

"I'm up," Hannah informed her calmly as she turned her face from the window to look at her sister.

"Well, hurry up and get ready," Naomi demanded. "You need to go into town with the servants and oversee the meal preparation for father's gathering tonight. Keep an eye on them; I don't want any mistakes this time, you know those fools would lose their head if someone weren't there to watch them."

Hannah sighed. Though she wasn't a servant, she sometimes felt like one. She was commonly given tasks that were geared at improving her sister's life. It was her job; after all, they told her. As second-born, her only goal in life was to serve Naomi's interests until her father could figure out how to marry her off.

Satisfied with giving her sister proper instructions, Naomi quickly turned on her heels and stormed out of the room. Hannah got up and busied herself with getting into the appropriate garments. When going into town, she preferred not to bring much attention to herself, so she put on a plain tunic and pulled her dark hair up.

After a little preparation, Hannah finally found herself down in the busy streets. The market was a hub of activity as people maned their various shops, and market-goers moved too and fro carrying bags or pushing carts. Hannah blended in with the commoners in her plain clothes as she walked alongside the slaves of her father's palace.

"What does your father want us to prepare for this feast?" Jo asked. The young woman and her sister and mother had been palace servants for a long time, and they'd formed a close bond with Hannah.

"Some fine bread and cheese," Hannah replied as she pulled out her list. She enjoyed mingling with the servants far more than she enjoyed mingling with her own class. She enjoyed planning out the meals and then shopping for the supplies they'd need. It felt like an exciting scavenger hunt for her.

"I'll get the wine and the oil," Ellen suggested. "Jo, you and Eileen should go get the meat and cheese. Pick the best ones; you know how Naomi reacts when it's not the best quality."

Hannah sighed. She knew her sister had a temper, and the servants were often on the receiving end of her wrath.

"I'll go get the vegetables," Hannah suggested. "I think the citrus trees are in full season now."

Ellen sighed. "It's not safe for you to separate from us," she said. "Commoners can be dangerous, especially if they know who you are. Why didn't you bring the guards with you?"

Hannah shrugged. "I'll be fine," she responded. She knew there was some truth to what Ellen was saying, but she knew the risks, and she didn't like to hide behind soldiers all the time.

She parted ways with Ellen and her daughters and moved further down the streets, enjoying the chance to be out on her own. She rarely went anywhere without a chaperone, and it was a welcomed treat to be able to co-exist with the commoners. She could imagine she was one of them and that she led a simpler life where she could be free to explore her own imagination.

As she crossed the street, a chariot passed by her, it's drivers moving to avoid her. She took little note of it as it weaved in and out of crowds. Hannah planned to take her time once she got to the vegetable stalls, but as she approached the center of the forum, some activity caught her eye. She squeezed through a crowd of bystanders to get a better look.

Two men in slave garments and leather armor circled one another menacingly while the crowd watched in anticipation. Hannah sighed. A gladiator match. Gladiators were all the rage these days, and while most were held in the arena, sometimes gladiators put on shows for commoners, a special free treat for those who couldn't usually afford to attend one on their own.

Hannah's father had explained how gladiators were a great source of entertainment and how the gladiator slaves were well treated and wanted to fight, but Hannah never really believed him. She'd never met a gladiator before, but she didn't see how they'd enjoy such a brutal lifestyle.

Today, the gladiators were unarmed and were showing off some moves to the crowd, so Hannah gave herself permission to stay and watch the match. She glanced at the woman beside her in the crowd.

"Who are the challengers?" she asked. The woman glanced at her, looking her over carefully. Hannah frowned as it felt as though she was being scrutinized.

"Gabriel and Castiel," the woman explained. "A father and son that was recently purchased by Michael. They're just practicing for a tournament against Nero's gladiators in a few days."

Hannah groaned, not bothering to hide her feelings of contempt. Apparently, her look was recognizable, and the woman raised a brow. "I take it you don't approve of our emperor? You should be careful where you display such contempt. You never know who might be listening."

Hannah tensed as she looked at the woman. She was a red-haired woman about Hannah's age wearing a fine toga. Hannah glanced around at the people around them, and seeing no familiar faces or anyone looking too official; she only lowered her voice slightly.

"I can't say I am a fan of Nero," she admitted as she though of the Emporer in his palace. She'd only encountered him at palace events, but rumors of his brutality had reached her, and she had learned to regard him with caution.

"Don't worry, most of us aren't," the woman replied with a smirk. The woman's eyes lingered on Hannah for a moment longer, as if she was considering saying something but couldn't decide how to proceed.

"You seem kind, I'd like to show you something if I could," the woman replied, her voice an enticing tone. "My name is Lucretia, by the way. Come."

Hannah felt cautious, but curiosity always got the best of her, and she found herself following the women who led her through the crowds, past the forum, and down into the labyrinth of buildings containing shops and crowded insulae apartment buildings.

As she followed Lucretia deeper into a part of town she realized she had never been, Hannah began to get worried. She realized she took this woman's sincerity a little too eagerly. It was a flaw, she knew. Her curiosity and craving for adventure often led her to take risks, and just as Ellen had warned, she wasn't knowledgeable enough about the dangers of the streets. After all, how could she be with chaperones following her every move?

"Where are we going?" she called ahead as she struggled to keep up with Lucretia. The tall woman only called over her shoulder.

"You'll see," she assured her as they wove through alleyways and streets. Men and women they passed gave them curious glances. Hannah was about to turn away, about to speak up when she heard the steps behind her. Whirling, as two men appeared, she gasped.

"Stay away!" she exclaimed. In response, the men suddenly sprouted fangs, and as she turned back to Lucretia, she gasped when the woman bore fangs as well. Hannah cried out and tried to run, but they grabbed her. She struggled and tried to scream, her heart pounding in her chest. It was then that she felt a hard blow to her head, and then everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hannah opened her eyes, feeling flooded back into her body. Her head throbbed, and the dull feeling of nausea crept into her senses. She felt weak and dizzy. She lay on a small bare couch in a large, sparsely furnished room.

A shadow in her peripheral vision made her gasp as she sat up quickly, prepared to get away. She felt a hand grasp her shoulder firmly, but gently and as she turned, she saw the man, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, standing over her, a look of concern in his eyes.

"You're awake," he commented gently. "I was worried." Hannah looked him over. She still felt so disoriented and dizzy, and the sudden movement had the world around her spinning hard. Reluctantly, though every instinct inside her told her to run, she lay back down with a groan.

"I feel ill," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut as the waves of nausea rolled over her.

"It's the blood loss," the man replied. After a pause, she opened her eyes again as she recalled what had happened. Lucretia, and then the fanged men. How could she have been so foolish? She had followed a stranger, and now she had no idea where she was?

"Where am I?" she murmured softly. Her throat hurt, and her voice seemed hoarse as if from overuse.

"Ostia," the man said. She turned to look at him again. She realized she recognized him as the gladiator who had been dueling in the market.

"Why have you done this to me?" she asked. "Lucretia, where is she?"

"I'm sorry, you shouldn't be here," he admitted, glancing down. "When they took you, I protested and… you don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" Hannah slowly sat up again, this time giving herself a chance to acclimate to the new position. "Why do I feel so ill, I don't remember being injured."

"You regained consciousness a few times while they… were feeding," the gladiator explained. He took a slow breath, focusing his eyes on her, sympathy in his expression. "I thought you'd remember."

Hannah swallowed, a slight panic growing within her as she searched her memories. She didn't remember waking up or being transported, but… she thought maybe there was something. Flashes of consciousness that she didn't understand.

"I'm so sorry this has happened to you," he said. Hannah felt irritated as she listened to him, repeat himself.

"If you're so sorry, then why did you let it happen?" she demanded angrily. She was scared, more scared than she'd ever been before, and she felt ashamed, and this slave repeating how sorry he was for letting it happen made her feel a sense of infuriation.

"She does this," the man explained as he got up and moved to a small armoire at the far end of the room, rummaging through it and producing a few linen cloths, and poured her a glass of water from the porcelain basin resting on top. "My name is Castiel, by the way. I'm from the province of Judea. My father and I were captured as you were."

Hannah felt so ill. Dizzy and nauseous. She swallowed hard, fighting to keep from being sick to her stomach. "My father is Raphael," she explained. "The senator. He's going to learn that I am missing."

"She knows," Castiel replied as he returned to her side and handed her the glass. "I think that's the only thing saving you from the fate of many other women she captures."

"Fate?" She didn't like the sound of that. She already gathered that they'd done something to her. They made her sick, and they hurt her, the fact that she had no memory of what that could be led her to contemplate many unsettling possibilities.

"Lucretia owns this brothel," Castiel explained solemnly as he sat beside her and watched her take a long sip. The water was refreshing to her parched throat, and she savored it. "It's also a place for slaves as she is a dealer in foreign slaves like myself."

"A brothel…" she swallowed again, feeling nauseous still, but for another reason. She knew full well that wealthy men well utilized the prostitutes of Rome. She's often heard them chatter about various sexual exploits, casually as if they were merely talking about fine wine. "Did… did they?"

"No," he said firmly, a tone of determination in his voice made her glance at him, regarding him with interest. "And they won't. Not if we have anything to do with it."

"We?" at that moment, the door opened, and another gladiator came in. He carried a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and some tea on it. Hannah's stomach lurched painfully when he set the tray down on the small table beside her bed. She wasn't so sure she could stomach any food at the moment.

"This is my father, Gabriel," Castiel explained. "We've been taking care of you." Gabriel pulled up a chair and sat down, glancing at Hannah with concern.

"Lucretia and her men are entertaining guests in the courtroom," he explained. "They're preoccupied at the moment."

"I want to go home," Hannah lamented. "I don't know why I'm here. I know… I know it was my fault. I should have stayed where I was." she winced, hot tears forming in her eyes. "I was so stupid."

"If your father is a senator, why were you dressed as a commoner?" Castiel asked. "And why were you alone?" Gabriel settled the hot bowl of soup into Hannah's arms, and the warmth was welcoming, though she refrained from eating for now.

"I just wanted to get away for a little bit," she explained, a tear escaping her eye. "All I ever do is to serve others. My sister, my father. They follow me, tell me to dress a certain way, uphold their standards, put on a smile for the vile pigs who visit the villa… I just wanted to get away from that. I'd never been without a chaperone." She thought of Ellen and Jo and Eileen and winced. "My servants are going to pay the price for this. But it was my fault."

"You seem quite young," Gabriel commented with a sigh. "I can see why you were so eager to trust someone who promised something new. But this place… it's not safe."

"Lucretia and her men aren't just slave traders," Castiel explained. And with that, he extended his arm and pulled the sleeve of his tunic up. Hannah saw many old scars on his wrist and forearm; they seemed like animal bites. Some looked faded and old, but a few looked much more recent.

Hannah winced as she traced fingers along his arm, feeling the scarred skin. "How long have you been fighting?" she asked, glancing at him. She noted a few scars on his neck, as well. "Were they lions?"

"I've been fighting for three years," Castiel explained. "And… these scars aren't all from animals. Lucretia is a vampire. She and her kind feed on blood. That's… that's why you were captured. She keeps people as slaves and prostitutes, and she and her men feed on us. That's… that's what she did to you."

Hannah frowned as Gabriel took the bowl of soup from her, then grabbed her arm and pulled up the sleeve. She inhaled in shock as she saw the bandages wrapped around her wrist. "What…" she gasped as she looked over the injuries on her own arm. "Oh…" she couldn't help the waves of nausea and promptly doubled over, getting sick into Gabriel's lap. She gagged and gasped, heaving and wretching hard, her body shaking as tears streamed down her face. She was vaguely aware of hands on her shoulders, around her torso, pulling her hair back, holding her up as she vomited.

When her stomach finally settled, and she found the strength to sit up, blinking back tears as her body continued to tremble, Gabriel reached up with a cloth and wiped her mouth and gave a small smirk. "I… uh think I'll go clean up."

"I'm sorry," Hannah offered, blushing with embarrassment as he got to his feet and stammered towards the door.

"Just… take it easy, okay?" he told her, "try to eat something." With that, he left the room, leaving Hannah and Castiel alone. She turned to him, still feeling embarrassed. She realized then that she was leaning slightly against him, and he was holding her up, the warmth of his arms around her, securing her from toppling over, they were comforting.

"Hannah," she glanced at him. It was the first time he'd said her name; she wasn't sure he knew it. "I don't know how, but we're going to get you out of here, okay?"

"Are there other people here?" she wondered. "I mean… like you and like me?"

"There are other slaves and prostitutes," Castiel confirmed. "About five other girls and nine gladiators, but there have been many others that have come and gone. She hires us out, uses us to bring in an income so she can focus on her… blood activities."

"Will we get them out too?" she wondered, feeling a pang of sympathy. She believed Castiel when he told her she'd be safe from the prostitution part, but she didn't want to see it happen to anyone else here. "I… I know I've always been told to mind my own stature, not to be concerned with… those considered below me, but…"

Castiel raised a brow, a look of surprise. "Haven't you ever seen a gladiator tournament?" he wondered. "I know your father puts them on. I've entertained him and his house many times."

Hannah gazed down at her hands in her lap. "I hate them," she admitted. "I usually try to avoid the parties he puts on. Naomi is more attuned to those events than I am."

"Naomi?" Castiel had a kind face, and Hannah couldn't help but feel comforted by him. Just by his presence. He held no judgments towards her, for anything her father had done. He was genuine, nothing like what she was used to.

"My older sister," Hannah replied. "And the more favored. My father parades her around like his greatest trophy and I… I'm just a misfit. My father plans to marry me off to Uriel. I turned eighteen earlier this year, and he's just waiting until Saturnalia passes to make the arrangements."

"I see," Castiel frowned. "Well… we'll see that you get back by then."

Hannah studied him for a long moment. His deep cerulean eyes were soft despite the hard life he must have led. "Well…" she said with a shrug and a sigh. "I did say I wanted adventure."

"No," he said quickly. "Not here. You don't want to be here, Hannah. You belong to that life. Where you'll be cared for and protected."

Hannah scoffed as she stood up for the first time. She wobbled a little, a wave of dizziness washing over her. Castiel was on his feet in a second, ready to catch her. She took in a breath and brushed him aside, gazing around at her surroundings.

"Like my mother was protected?" she replied angrily as she recalled the story of her mother that she remembered. "She died two years ago."

"I'm sorry," Castiel offered. "Was it an illness?" Hannah nodded and looked down.

"She was a maiden when she was given to Caligula," Hannah explained. "As a wealthy maiden, she was to be his wife. But he was so cruel. She tried to escape him, and when she told them of his abuse of her, they told her it was her duty to suffer for him. When he died, she was forced to marry my father. He was kind to her; he's always been kind enough, but… she still had no choice in the matter. She always told me it was her duty to Rome."

Castiel didn't say anything at first and just leaned in and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, blushing slightly at the apparent connection between them. "Whatever that life has to offer you," he began, "this one is much worse. So much worse."

Hannah gazed down. She was terrified. She didn't know what horrors were in store for her here. She didn't want to be this woman's blood slave, and she certainly didn't want to be forced to give herself to some wealthy Roman elite. She didn't want to stay for one more minute in this place. But, she didn't want to go back either. She realized that maybe, this could be an opportunity for her to be something different than what she was born into.

She turned to face Castiel, looking him in the eye, mustering up every ounce of courage and determination she could find within her. "I'm not leaving until every slave is freed from here," she told him. "And not until these bloodsuckers are brought to justice."

Her declaration visibly moved Castiel. He inhaled, looking her over as if trying to ascertain if she could possibly be serious. "What about Uriel and your marriage?"

"Uriel is a pompous fool," she spat with disgust. "I don't belong there, I never did." Even as she said that she began to feel a shred of doubt, she did not doubt that her father would be looking for her, and he'd never accept this. After all, she'd ruin his reputation. Rumors and gossip would spread of the senator's rebellious disgrace of a daughter being found in a brothel of slaves. The consequences could be much more severe. But if she could use her wealth and her position to help Castiel and people like him, she knew she had to try.

"I've never met someone with so much bravery," Castiel replied. He hesitated before reaching out to take her hand. "I'll help you any way I can."


End file.
